All Hallow's Eve
by penguin5689
Summary: What happens when Doc follows my OC on a trip to Salem, MA? I am terrible at these summary things... Anyway...
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hello! I originally planned on posting this story in October, but I decided on entering it in a contest on Wattpad. I figured I post it on here as well. **

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**_Salem, MA_**

**_2009_**

The whole town was there, gathered around the hanging tree, just outside of Salem Village. Its been 317 years to date since the trials were held, and those poor people were hanged. We were here to be respectful, and honor our ancestors.

There are some parts of old Salem Village that were left untouched, and they always will be, except for when the historical society come in and refurbishes some of the buildings. Parts, like this tree, and the jail not far from here, have been left untouched. It's still the same wood the jail was built with years ago. The only thing is you can't go inside most of the buildings because they were deemed structurally unsound.

I looked around at all the people. Everyone really was there. I saw Grandmother over by the old wishing well. She was wearing her dark brown, long sleeved, velvet dress with her red cloak on her back. She didn't look to happy. She was sitting on the bench that went around the well, looking down it in a very depressed manner.

I walked over to her. She was leaning on the well.

"Good morning, Grandmother," I said trying to cheer her up. "You look a bit down today. What's wrong?" I sat down on the bench next to her.

"It's nothing, dear. It's just," she paused and got up. "Come with me. "

I followed Grandmother to her little store in the center of town. Her store looked more like a shack, though, but I loved it anyway. There were other stores around hers, all connected together like a strip mall in the city. Across from her little store, was another long trail of stores and restaurants, like the diner. Grandmother's store was painted a light tan color with a dark tan for the trim. She had a window in the front of her store which she features items that are on sale, or new items she's never had before.

Grandmother always had some of the best things to buy; anything from scented candles to runes, even frog legs. I followed her in. The door to her store was old and needs to be replaced, but I feel if you replaced it, the store just won't look the same. It looked like she got new stuff. Her store was small inside. She had a checkout counter to the right, a tall row of shelves in the middle, a small shelf in front of the window, and tall shelves against the left and back walls. The color on the inside was a bit darker than on the outside. However, it was still tan. You couldn't really see the walls, except in between the shelves and where she didn't have any.

I watched Grandmother as she walked behind the checkout counter. She bent down and I lost sight of her for a second. She came back up with a piece of paper. She handed me the paper and I read what was on it.

It was a letter from the city of Boston. I was a little confused . It said "Dear Sir or Madam. It has come to our attention that you were late..." I stopped reading and looked at Grandmother.

"You may be losing the store?" I questioned.

She nodded her head. "Yes, unless I can find away to pay off the rent," she said sadly.

"Don't worry," I said reaching over the counter, placing my hand on her shoulder. "I know we'll find the money. You can't give up. Maybe the others could help."

"I don't know. They don't have to help me. Maybe I should just sell the place." She took the letter and put it back under the counter. "I'm getting old anyway. It's about time to retire."

"Grandmother, now look. You may be old, but you're the fun kind of old, not the grumpy unfun kind. Plus, you can't get rid of the store; the whole village loves this place. We'll find the money. I'm not gonna let you give up so easily," I told her.

She came out from behind the counter, and threw her arms around me. "You don't have to do this," she whispered in my ear.

"Oh, but I must," I whispered in to hers. "I'll help you."

"Thank you," she whispered back and hugged me tighter.

She let go of me and backed up. She was all teary eyed. I felt so bad. The whole village loves this place. She can't lose it. If she does, there goes the town. We're only here because of her. She's the reason we stay. If she wasn't here, I don't know where I'd be.

After Grandmother was a little happier, we went back outside. There was a lot of commotion across the street at the diner. We walked over to see what was going on.

I could see through a little crack in between the people in front of me. There was a guy wearing plaid shorts and a plain, red t-shirt. He had blood rolling down the side of his face, and what looked like a black eye. He didn't look familiar. I think he's not from around here.

I looked through the crowd of people. "It's Ron. He's at it again," I told Grandmother.

The other guy was no other than Ron Walker; the meanest, toughest, yet friendliest guy in town. He had on his old cut-off jean shorts and a white t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off at the shoulders. His left hand was clenched and he was standing in his traditional fighting pose: feet apart, knees bent, fist clenched, leaning forward, ready to attack. Ron's hand was dripping with blood, and he was breathing quite heavily.

She sighed. "When is he going to learn. Violence is never the answer."

"Oh, he'll learn, once he's been thrown in jail," said the lady standing next to Grandmother. It just so happened to be Linda, and she was with her husband.

Linda was the kind of old lady that wanted just about everything, and it being perfect was definitely a must. Linda always had good-looking light golden brown hair, whether it was curled tight or loose; it was always nicely kept. She always seemed pretty tall even when she isn't wearing high heels. She has a very young appearance, even though she's 65 years old. Today she was wearing a long brown, gold, and black, jewel en-crested dress. She had on sandals with small, pointed heals, and long dangly earring rings, one for each ear. She had a pearl necklace on, which screamed _rich_. She can be your best friend one day, and your worst enemy the next.

Linda is married to a more laid back, "yes, honey, anything you want honey", kind of guy named Chet. Chet never really complained. I believe the only reason Linda married him was for his money because Chet... Chet was rich, and smokin' rich at that. Chet has short gray hair, and sometimes has little stubs of hair starting to grow into beard, but most of the time his face is bare. He is a bit shorter than Linda and looks a smidge older, even though they may be the same age. Chet always wore dark navy blue shorts and a plain colored t-shirt. He never dressed quite as fancy as Linda always did. I guess he didn't want his money to show.

"Linda, he's already been to jail," Grandmother replied. "It only made him tougher."

I could hear sirens in the background, and everyone scattered, even Ron and his opponent. Grandmother, Linda, Chet and I ran inside the diner and sat down at the table.

"Boy, that was close," said Chet.

"I know, dear. I could have lost my pearls," Linda said holding part of her necklace. "Why don't you be a doll, and order something for us to eat," she said to Chet.

Chet got up and slumped over to the counter. I looked out the window, and there were some guys in black suits talking to the police. Those men looked quite suspicious to me. A guy got out of the police car wearing a green army suit, showing off the medals he earned. He started talking to the officers. I couldn't make out what they were saying. This is quite suspicious. Chet came back over and sat down.

"They're getting us some food," Chet said placing his folded hands on the table.

"What did you order, darling?" Linda asked in a fake British accent.

"Steaks, top of the line, steaks," Chet replied with a smirk. "They'll be out in ten minutes."

Linda placed her hand near his lips. "Maw," she said like one of those professional chefs on tv do after the have just perfected their latest dish. "Wonderful darling, simply wonderful."

"I would only order the best for you," He said stretching his arm over her shoulder.

I glanced over to the window to see if those men were still out there. They were not. I wonder were they went, not that I care. I glanced away from the window, and back at the table. I saw the waiter coming with our food out of the corner of my eye. He placed the food on the table and offered us some A-1 steak sauce. He placed the bottle down on the table and walked away. I watched him walk away, and I saw that man in the green army suit from outside sitting at the counter on one of those bar stools. So, that's where they went. I saw the two police officers sitting next to him. It looked like they were conversing, but I'm not sure. I turned back to my steak, and dug in. It was, out of doubt, the best steak I've tasted in years. It was thick and juicy and it had that little bit of pink still in it, just like mom used to cook.

We all sat in silence as we ate our steaks. I was just about done with mine when the waiter came over.

"How is everything?" He asked with a smile.

Chet put his fork down, and looked up at the man. "It is very good, thank you," he said to him as he picked up his glass of soda and took a sip.

"So, will any of you be wanting desert tonight?"

Chet looked around at all of us.

Grandmother and I both shook our heads left and right.

"Oh, no dear. I to full to eat anymore," Linda said looking up and placing the back of her hand against her forehead in the mist dramatic way possible.

I rolled my eyes. She can be such a drag queen from time to time.

Chet turned to the waiter. "No, this is all," he said.

"Ok, sir. I'll be right out with your check," the waiter said, then walked away.

I just finished my last piece of steak when I looked up to see the man in the green army suit standing at our table.

"Can I help you?" Chet asked the man.

"I'm here to speak with your little friend here," he replied looking at me. "So, I heard some incredible things about you, Doctor."

"What's this all about?" Linda asked in anger. "How come he knows more about you than he does about me?! I'm rich, god dammit!"

"Easy honey. It's ok," Chet said in a calm, reassuring manner to his wife.

I glanced over to Linda, and rolled my eyes. _Really? _She needs to get more of a life, and not just be rich and buy everything in sight.

The strange man pulled over a chair and sat down.

"Ignore her," Grandmother said flatly.

"So, as side from the fact that you know I'm a doctor, what else do you know?" I asked him.

"Well, I know..." He was interrupted. There was a loud bang noise from outside. He got up and peeked his head out the front door.

"Do you even know this man?" Grandmother asked me.

"No, but apparently he knows me," I replied shrugging my shoulders.

There was another loud bang. I shivered. The sky was getting dark. I decided to get up and go see what was going on. The man that was talking with us was still in the door way, shocked. I pushed him out of the way and walked outside. He followed me. The sky was getting darker, and filling with smoke. A crowd of people came running toward us from the center of town. Grandmother and her friends came out to see what's going on.

"What's with all the yelling?" Chet asked.

" I don't know, but it's coming from that direction," I said pointing toward where all the people were coming from.

"What makes you so sure?" Linda asked.

"I just have this strange feeling," I replied sarcastically. "I'm gonna go take a look," I said to Grandmother. "You go back inside, and don't come back out till they say it's safe."

I ran through the crowd, dodging the oncoming people. I made it to an open area in the crowd. I heard gunshots. Everyone around me was silent. Then the gunshots got louder, and people began to scatter. I tried to avoid all the people running toward me, but I couldn't. Someone pushed me back. I closed my eyes as I fell to the ground, but I never fully felt the dirt beneath me. Someone caught me. I opened my eyes to see the same stranger from before. It was the guy from the diner.

He helped me stand back up. "You gotta be more careful next time," he told me.

Another round of gunshots went off, and more and more people started running toward us. This time from all different directions.

"It's not safe here. Come with me," the man in the green army suit said as he grabbed my arm and pulled me away.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Somewhere safe," he replied.

We ran back to the diner. The police car was still there. The man told me to get in the car. The police officers were there as well. The man ran into Grandmother's shop. I wonder what he told her. He came back out and got in the police car, and the car sped off.

"Where are we going?" I demanded.

"You're not safe here. We're going some place safer than this," he replied.

"Fine, I get it. Just tell me one thing." I said to the man. "Who are you?!"

"The name's General W. R. Monger."


	2. Chapter 1

_**Somewhere at an undisclosed location in the American Midwest**_

_**4 years later**_

It's been about 4 years since I was forced to leave Salem. Ever since I've been here at this facility, so secret not even the president knew about it, and he knows everything. It has been quite interesting, I must say. I suppose I can say I've made some new friends.

Every year I've been here I've asked Monger if I could leave and go to Salem, and every year it was the same answer, no. After the third year asking to go back to Salem, at least for October, I gave up. I knew Monger was never gonna come through and say yes. He doesn't even have the heart to say yes to a better vending machine. The thing ate my dollar, literally. I put it in, and it spit it back out in little shards of green paper! I couldn't even put it back together it was so small.

Ever since he brought me here, I pretty much just kept to myself, except when Monger wanted me to assist Dr. Cockroach with something big. Other than that, I never really left my room. He let me paint my room. It went from an ugly gray color to a much more sublte lavender purple. There's a bed, an actual bed, with sheets. Plain boring sheets, but sheets, and a blanket, and some pillows. It's not as comfortable as my bed back home, but I guess it has to do. I still got my tablet, though. He let me keep anything I had with me when I left. I have a TV in my room. It wasn't very big.

I was sitting on my bed in my room when I heard a knock on the door. I got up and looked out of the peek hole in the door. It was Monger. I wonder what he wants.

I partially opened the door. "Hello," I said peeking my head through the crack.

"Here is that plane ticket you wanted," Monger said as he handed me the piece of paper.

I open the door a little more and stood in the opening. "Oh, thank you," I replied, taking the ticket from his hand.

"Now, if there isn't anything else, I should be going," he said.

"Oh, no there isn't. Thank you." I smiled at him.

"Well, if there is, don't hesitate to ask. I want our newest monster to be comfortable," Monger said.

"Ok, bye."

"Have a nice day now," he said as he walked away.

I closed the door staring at the ticket. I can't believe he actually got it for me. I didn't even ask to go this year. Wow! I leaned against the door and slid down to the floor. Wow! Who was that, and what did he do to Monger? I guess he's not such a bad guy after all. I can't believe for the first time in years I'm actually gonna be going to Salem this year. I got up off the floor and sat back on my bed thinking about what to bring. I didn't actually think I'd be going. I can't wait to see everyone again. I hope Grandmother didn't lose her store.

He called me a _monster_. I'm no monster. Well... maybe in the late 1600s, yes... but now, no.

**The Next Day: DUN, DUN, DUN!**

I was standing in line to get my bags checked at McCarran International Airport in Las Vegas. I was wearing a long black dress, and my black velvet cloak that reached the ground. I wore my silver-plated pentacle on the purple ribbon that Grandmother gave me before I left. I carried my bag over my shoulder, under my cloak.

It was my turn at the desk. I gave the lady my ticket, and she scanned it into the computer. A strip of paper came out. I gave her my suitcase and she attached the strip to my bag and put it on the moving platform that sent it to who knows where. She gave me back the ticket, and I head to security.

You know, now they have all these safety precautions and checkpoints to pass before you can get on the plane. You know, to try and stop terrorists. It doesn't work. Some still manage to get by.

Anyway, I walked over to get in line to go through that metal detector. I couldn't help but notice what felt like somebody following me. I shook it off. It's the airport; everybody's going to the same place. They're supposed to be following you.

When it was my to go through, I had to put my bag, cloak, shoes, and jewelry in a plastic container on this belt that pushed it through a special machine. I walked under this square arch thingy, and TSA person said I was ok to go. I collected my things and proceeded to the gate where my plane would be.

I still have that strange feeling I'm being followed. By who, I don't know, but I can sense their presence, and it is quite familiar.

There were a lot of places to sit at the gate. I didn't know where to sit. I ended up sitting close to the boarding door. There were TVs everywhere. The one above the counter at the boarding door showed whether or not the plane was going to arrive on time and another important airport related information. The one hanging in the view of the seats, were showing the local weather conditions for the city, those surrounding the city, and at times, what happening across the nation.

It was almost time to board when airport personnel at the desk started making announcements about the flight. They mentioned stuff about in-flight wifi and what handicap people should do and those with strollers and even first class people.

You know what I think is unfair, letting those first class jerks on before the handicap. And you know what else I think? Just because you're obese does not mean you're disabled. The only condition you have is being a bottomless pit that has no concept of the English language, or how to be polite, or to know when to stop eating.

They started calling zones to board the plane. That was a bit confusing, but I just waited until the zone on my ticket was called.

An announcer came over the intercom. "Now boarding zone three," the voice said.

I look down at my ticket. Yup, that's me. I grabbed my bag that I had placed on the seat next to me. It seems as if everyone wanted to get on the plane at the same exact time. They all started to rush to the boarding door. One almost knocked me over, so I decided to start pushing through everyone. It was really hard trying to get through, especially through the fat ones.

So, anyway, after I got through the crowd of people, I found my seat on the plane. According to my ticket, I had the seat right next to the window. I placed my bag on the floor, and buckled my seatbelt. My seat was pretty comfortable, even though I could see much from my window on the account that it was just in front of the plane's wing.

I could see the people on the ground putting the suitcases and other things onto a belt that brought it up to the plane. I watched as they loaded the last of the suitcases.

I felt someone sit down in the seat next to mine. Could this be my possible stalker? I dare not turn around. I watch as the people on the ground put the belt away from the plane. They drive it like a car!

I could hear the mysterious stranger next to me buckle their seat belt. I just stared out the window. They placed their hand on my shoulder.

"My dear, is something wrong?" the voice asked in a kind, gentle manner.


End file.
